


Thistles

by MooseFeels



Series: In the Garden of Your Love [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguing, Fist Fights, Fluff, Garden 'Verse, Mild Angst, Sam channels Bobby in a big way alright, gardener!dean, teenage!castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel doesn't take it well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thistles

It's four am, and there is a persistent, urging pounding on his door. It won't stop. 

Dean tugs on his pants, stumbles across his house, opens the door. 

Someone rather...shorter than he's used to seeing stands in his doorway. Rumpled. Longish blonde hair. Aggressive stance.

"So you're the piece of shit that's fucking my little brother," he spits.

"Pardon?" Dean answers. The accusation wanders around his head, looking for something to connect to. "Cas" comes up. So does "protective older brother."

"You're Dean," he hisses. "You're fucking Castiel. You're fucking my little brother."

"Gabriel" his brain finally provides.

"You're Gabriel," he says.

"Yes," he answers, and decks Dean solidly in the jaw. 

It stings- Gabriel's a small guy but he knows how to work with it, and if Dean hadn't been expecting it (however dimly), he would've fallen backward. 

"Nice hook," he comments. 

"Thanks," Gabriel growls, and catches him on the opposite side of his jaw. 

"Fuck!" Dean shouts. "Jesus, will you let me talk?" 

"No," Gabriel says. "I think I'm just going to punch you."

"Have you talked to Castiel?" Dean asks. 

"No," Gabriel answers. "I figure I can do that when you're gone."

"Might be faster to talk to him first," Dean says before he's hit by another punch. "Fuck!"

"Why is that?" Gabriel bites out, panting.

"Because he might tell you that I don' intend to be leaving him any time soon," Dean explains. 

Dean would swear to god that he sees actual murder, his murder, in Gabriel's eyes.

He grabs Dean's shirt and tugs him down to eye level. "What did you just say?" He growls.

"I said I don't intend to be leaving Castiel any time soon," he repeats. "I love him."

"Gabriel!" is shouted from the distance, and Balthazar rounds the corner, winded. "What is wrong with you?"

"He's fucking my brother!" he cries, indignant. He lets go of Dean with on hand to point into his face. "He's what, nineteen? Twenty? He's fucking my brother!"

Balthazar finishes storming to the house and begins to work on extricating Gabriel from Dean. "You're embarrassing yourself, do you know that?" he says. 

Gabriel looks at Balthazar, and then at Dean, and then at Balthazar again. "You were in on it!" he exclaims. "What did you do, pimp him out?"

"Jesus!" Dean cries. "What do you think I am, some sort of animal? I only did what he wanted to do, okay? It was all consensual, it was all honorable!"

"He's fifteen!" Gabriel shouts out, fighting around Balthazar'a arms.

"No," Dean retorts, "he's sixteen and he'll be seventeen in November, and if you were ever here or ever talked to him, you'd know that!"

Dean knows he deserves the next sock in the jaw he gets. 

"Fuck you," Gabriel says. "You don't know me."

"You sure as hell don't know me," Dean answers. 

"What in the hell," Sam shouts from about twenty feet away, "are you idiots doing."

It is not a question as much as a statement, uttered with a shameful amount of authority from a sixteen year old in his sweats. 

All three of them look at Sam, suddenly, inexplicably ashamed. 

"Nothing," Gabriel says.

"That's what I thought," Sam says. "Nothing had better be  a sight more quiet for the rest of the evening."

Dean makes a mental note to call and thank Bobby for giving Sam his people skills. 

Sam shuffles off, and Gabriel adjusts himself. Points at Dean's face. "Look," he whispers. "I don't know you. I don't like you. The only reason I know about you is because my little brother is high as a kite on lortab-"

"He's what?" Dean interrupts. "Is he okay? You know those can mess up breathing right? What happened?"

"He broke his hand," Balthazar supplies. "He's never had a bad reaction to it before, he'll be fine."

"He broke his hand? Jesus, you gotta teach your brother how to throw a punch," Dean continues.

"Listen," Gabriel grinds,"he didn't need to know how to throw a punch until you came along. Castiel was good. He was going places, and he'll go there again-"

"Why?" Dean asks. "So you can go back to the parties and cities while he stays here? Don't you think he gets tired of being the 'good one?'"

"I want you gone," Gabriel says. His voice finds the bravery to break from the Sam induced hush. "Out of here."

He stomps off.

Dean stands in the cottage doorway, dumbstruck. Terrified. 

"Well, shit," he murmurs.

"That went better than expected," Balthazar adds.


End file.
